Christmas Eve
by redvinesandvagendas
Summary: Started on 1/18/14 in honor of the Our Little Show Project! This takes place post season 5 reset. Olivia and Peter balance their family life with their work life as new fringe events begin to occur.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi guys! This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so bear with me. I'm definitely not a writer, just have some ideas of what I wanted to see in Fringe and thought I might as well write them down :)**

**A little background:**

**This story starts on Christmas Eve 2015, so like four months after the finale of the show (the timeline reset). **

**I don't know exactly where this is going, but if anyone is interested in keeping with it, leave me a review!**

* * *

Olivia walked into the house, shutting the door against the swirling snow and dark sky. Sitting next to her were two pairs of boots and a heap of wet snow gear forming a rather large puddle around the vent. Olivia shook her head with a smirk and went to grab a towel to clean up Peter and Etta's mess, but stopped when she heard their laughter emanating from the living room.

As she peeked around the corner, Olivia smiled at the scene playing out in front of her. The family's large fireplace illuminated what appeared to be a rather large and intricate fort constructed from nearly all the furniture and blankets on the lower level of their home. Using the light from the fire, Peter was enthusiastically showing Etta how to make various shadow puppets onto the sheet making up the nearest wall of the fort.

"I wasn't aware your bedtime had gotten pushed back, Miss Etta," Olivia called into the room, raising an eyebrow at Peter.

"Mama!" shouted Etta as she ran into her mother's arms. "We were just waiting till you got home because I want YOU to tell me a bedtime story tonight."

"Really?" Olivia inquired, "Because from what I remember, you liked Daddy's stories better."

"Well maybe if your stories had more princesses and dragons, they would be satisfactory," Peter smirked, kissing Olivia on the cheek. "Did you get all your paperwork done?"

"I _did_, but Broyles ordered a raid on the suspect from yesterday and I have yet to get everything documented. I brought home some work so I wouldn't get snowed in at the federal building. Besides, I was feeling the need for some hugs from my favorite little girl." Olivia squeezed Etta more tightly and pressed her nose into the three-year-old's curls, eliciting a small giggle from her.

"I'm glad you got home before the roads got too bad," Peter said, "and it appears this one is glad to have her mom home," to which Etta nodded eagerly, "but aren't you getting tired, sweetheart?"

"No, Daddy, I wanna show Mama the fort we made!" she whined.

"It'll be there in the morning, baby girl. If you don't get to bed soon, Santa might not come," Olivia warned her.

Etta dropped from Olivia's arms, giving her parents an extremely alarmed look before ambling up the stairs to her room as fast as her small legs would take her.

Peter chuckled quietly slipping his arms around Olivia's waist and setting his head on her shoulder. "I thought you weren't too keen on the whole 'Santa' thing? Didn't you say you feel uncomfortable lying to her about something so trivial?"

"Yeah, but it would probably be more difficult to prevent her from spreading the word that Santa's not real to the entirety of her preschool. At this point, I've decided to just go with it."

"How very diplomatic of you," murmured Peter.

"MOMMY, I'M STILL WAITING ON THAT STORY," Etta bellowed from her room, eliciting a chuckle from her embracing parents.

"Better get on that. You hungry? I'll make you something," offered Peter.

"Sure," Olivia smiled, "I'll be down as soon as I finish story time."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I don't own Fringe. If I did, the show would still be going... **

* * *

After Etta's eyes sleepily drooped shut and her breathing became even, Olivia quietly stood from her place next to Etta's bed and slipped out the barely open door. As she walked down the stairs and into the family's kitchen, Peter called out to her, not bothering to turn around from his place at the stove, "You know what was on the top of the kid's Christmas list, don't you?"

Olivia grimaced, "She hasn't let that topic go yet? I was hoping if we just didn't make a big deal over it, she would forget about it for a while."

Peter chuckled, "Well, ever since Nathan Anderson's baby sister was born, Etta's had her mind set on it. A couple hours ago she even asked me, 'Daddy, I really want a baby, you know. Can you pleeeaase ask Mommy to get one in her tummy?'" Peter imitated her high pitched voice and threw his version of Etta's pleading look over his shoulder at his wife who smirked in response.

"You know, you're like putty in her hands," she retorted with an eye roll. "Soon enough, I'm sure you're gonna join her in asking about that." Olivia's smile faltered a little as her forehead creased with stress.

Placing the completed food on a plate and pushing it towards Olivia, he sat down next to her at the kitchen island. "Livia, I want to know what you're thinking right now. Why do you look so worried?" he asked, imploring her face for more information and resting his hand on hers.

"I'm just… overwhelmed with the new case, you know?" she sighed. "Plus, we still have no leads on Walter's whereabouts other than the videos he left." As soon as she brought up his father's disappearance, Peter's face fell. "I just feel like it's not the right time to consider bringing a new life into the world when we are barely keeping up with the one we have already. We've already got our hands full with taking care of our perfect little girl sleeping upstairs," she said, bringing a smile to both of their faces. "And digging up more information on Walter. And the new cases we've been getting the past few weeks. And not to mention, there's talk about reopening the bridge, collaborating with Walternate once again since we're no longer in danger of David Robert Jones tearing a hole between our universes anymore," Olivia tiredly rambled off the list she fed to Peter every time he brought up the possibility of having another child.

"I understand what you're saying, Liv, but you always just shut me out when we have this conversation," Peter said, visibly exasperated. "I know it doesn't feel like the right time. But other than that, do you really not _want_ another baby?" Peter's voice softened as he continued, "I've never seen you happier or more at peace than when Etta was born. And you're just so perfect with her; disciplining her so she won't be spoiled, but always so loving and caring… I just would love to see you like that again," he whispered.

"Peter, I—," her voice cut off and she sighed. "I know you're ready. And Etta's ready. But… I just… I don't know if it's the right time for a baby, you know?" she looked up at Peter from underneath her eyelashes as he cupped her cheek reassuringly.

"If everyone waited for the 'right time' to have a baby, the world's population would be decreasing exponentially," he reassured her softly. "There is no right time for a baby. Especially not for people like us, who know too much about how messed up the world is."

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. "Is this supposed to be convincing me to bring another life into the world, or talking me out of it?"

"I just mean to say, you're overanalyzing what it means for it to be the right time. We're married. We have a beautiful, healthy daughter. We have stable jobs. Not to mention we're just about to reach the age where it would be considered a high risk pregnancy, so it's better to do this sooner rather than later. I think this could be the right time, for us."

After pausing to contemplate his words, Olivia exhaled slowly, "I'll consider it."

Peter tried to not let his smile get too wide, as to not scare her off, "That's all I ask. Now, Mrs. Claus, I think it's about time we get all the presents set up under the tree. Would you care to accompany me to the basement and bring them up?" he asked, smoothly changing the conversation and clearing her plate.

"I don't know if we'll even be able to reach the tree with that monstrosity in front of it," Olivia replied with a pointed look at the fort Etta and Peter had built. Peter laughed in response.

"Don't you worry about Fort Bishop. Etta left Santa a note on the coffee table to say that if he couldn't get around it, he could just leave the presents at the entrance," Peter responded, gesturing to the piece of paper propped up with the name 'SANTA' scrawled out in her three-year-old penmanship. "She even left the old man milk and cookies."

"So we're doing this whole Santa thing by the book, I see," Olivia muttered, "Where did you learn all of this? I can't quite picture Walter wanting to do something so trivial as nurturing the belief in Santa."

"You're correct. He wasn't quite as fun-loving back then to say the least. But my mother always said that a healthy imagination leads to a creative mind," he called as he headed down the stairs. "Now are you gonna help me with this or not?"

Olivia smiled and shook her head as she got up from her seat and started towards the stairs.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks a ton to muggleindenial28 for the review! Unfortunately I had this chapter written already and kinda skipped over Etta's storytime ;) Maybe next time I'll include one of those!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't know how you guys got so lucky. Three updates in one day? I'm nuts. But I guess ****this chapter _is_ super short.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, blah blah blah, how often do I have to write that? Always?**

* * *

Peter and Olivia carried the mountain of packages up from the basement, being careful not to make too much noise. "How did we end up with this many presents anyway?" Peter groaned, after bringing up their third and last load.

"Are you kidding? After our initial shopping to get her clothes and a few toys, you decided she needed that easel set. Then she needed the junior rocket building set. And a keyboard," Olivia listed off.

"Well, she's gotta be well-rounded. And that way we got the visual arts, musical arts and engineering skills developing," Peter reasoned defensively. "That kid has the Bishop genius brain. If we don't nurture it and encourage her, she might get bored of all her learning and just coast along and drop out of school and become a criminal. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened."

Olivia rolled her eyes in response. "Peter. You know I want to encourage her and help her grow and everything. You're just trying to justify the mountain of presents you spent your entire holiday bonus on. Besides, I don't exactly see Etta following in your footsteps, considering she has the most attentive father in the world," she said with a playful shove to Peter's shoulder. "However, at the rate you're going, I _could_ see her becoming a spoiled Daddy's Girl."

Peter smiled, pulling her down on the couch with him, "What am I supposed to do? Tell her no? Deny her joy just because?"

Olivia laughed at his incredulous tone, "Believe it or not, you _are_ supposed to learn how to say no to your daughter. You can't let her just walk all over you. That can have detrimental effects too."

"Mmm," Peter sighed sleepily, closing his eyes and snuggling closer to his wife, "I don't know, Liv. I'm content with you being the one who says no and me being the one who says yes."

"Are you gonna sleep on the couch, or do you wanna go upstairs?" Olivia asked, amused at his sudden drowsiness.

"Maybe I should go up. But walking…"

Olivia laughed, leaning in to kiss him and whispered in his ear, "Are you positive you're tired? Because I have something in mind that doesn't require us to go to sleep quite yet."

Peter's eyes opened in surprise, "Really?"

Olivia nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter awoke the next morning to a small, clammy hand patting him on the face. "Daddy," Etta crooned in a sing-song voice, "Wake up! Christmas!"

Peter squinted and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it, Sweetie?"

"Time to open presents!" exclaimed Etta, jumping on top of him. "Where's Mama?"

Peter regarded the cool, empty space next to him in bed. "I suppose she's already downstairs. Maybe Mama opened up all your presents already," he mumbled sleepily.

Etta's eyes opened wide with worry. "We have to stop her! She can't open my presents, they're mine," Etta scrambled worriedly, her lower lip starting to tremble as she got more upset.

"Woah, woah, Kiddo. I was just joking. I bet she's just downstairs reading the newspaper or something. Even _you_ aren't as much of a morning person as your mom. Should we go downstairs now and open presents?"

Etta sniffled and nodded, having calmed down a little. "Yeah. That would be good."

Olivia smiled as she heard the pitter patter of little feet running down the wooden staircase into the living room. Taking a sip of her coffee, she looked up from her paperwork just in time to see Etta enthusiastically pulling a still half-asleep Peter into the room.

"Mama!" Etta exclaimed, "I'm so glad you're up already. You didn't open my presents did you?"

Olivia scooted her chair out from the table and pulled her daughter onto her lap. "Of course not, Baby Girl. I would never do something like that," she reassured her, kissing her cheek and hugging her.

"Well, Daddy said you were going to open them all. I was worried."

Olivia responded with a small laugh, "Your daddy was just teasing you. You know he has a tendency to do that."

Peter kissed the top of Olivia's head. "Morning, Livia. Is there more coffee, or did you drink all of it?"

"There should be more. What's wrong, Bishop? Didn't get enough sleep?" she teased him innocently.

"I was up all night. Too excited about Santa coming today. Luckily, your daughter decided to let me sleep in all the way until 7 a.m. She's much nicer than you," Peter replied, not missing a beat.

"Okay. I did not get up to sit here and drink coffee. It's presents time!" Etta complained, clearly exasperated. "Come on, Mommy. Let's go see what Santa brought us," Etta said, climbing down from Olivia's lap and tugging on her hand.

"One second, Sweetie. Mommy and Daddy will be there in a minute. You go on ahead and figure out which presents you want to open first," Olivia told her.

"Okay!" Etta called behind her, already running into the living room.

Peter pulled Olivia up from her place at the table and kissed her. "How long have you been up? We didn't get to sleep until late," he said, tracing his hands down her arms.

"I woke up about an hour ago and figured I'd get to work finishing that write up for Broyles," Olivia sighed. "Besides, you're the one that was exhausted last night. I feel fine."

Peter scrutinized Olivia's eyes behind her glasses. "You're not having the nightmare again, are you?" She shrugged in response. "I wish Walter was here to ask about that," he sighed. "I feel like he would have some sort of solution for you. Who knows? Maybe it wouldn't even involve injecting something into the base of your skull," he joked, trying to lighten her mood.

Olivia gave a small smile and ran her hand through her hair. "Let's go to the living room. I'm not sure your daughter can wait any longer to open her presents."

Peter and Olivia grabbed their mugs of coffee and walked hand-in-hand into the living room, sitting down on the sofa as Etta finished piling presents before them.

"Mama, these ones have an 'O' for Mom, so they are your presents," Etta explained, gesturing towards one of the smaller piles. "Daddy, your presents are right here. And the rest are mine!"

"That definitely doesn't seem like a fair distribution," Peter said with mock concern. "Are you sure that those are _all_ yours?"

Etta sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Daddy. I'm sure they're mine. They all have a big E on them. Unless you've changed your name to Etta, they are mine."

"She gets that eye rolling from you," Peter muttered to Olivia who smirked in response. "If you say so, kiddo. Which present do you want to open first?"

Etta quickly pulled one of the larger presents from her pile and dragged it across the floor—it was too big for her little arms to carry—and plopped down on the floor in front of it. "Are you ready?" she asked, looking up at her parents expectantly.

Peter smiled. "Go ahead, Sweetie."

Etta went to town tearing open her presents while Olivia sat next to her and put all the torn paper in a garbage bag. Peter piled up the opened gifts next to him on the couch.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the follows! I'm glad some people are liking the story so far. I've just been quickly reading through these and fixing any glaring mistakes I see, so sorry if there's any major typos. **

**I have the next chapter in the works already! I'll probably get it up soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

After she opened all her presents, Etta sat on the floor playing with her new puzzles and books and doll house, Peter went into the kitchen to make pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs, and Olivia stayed in the living room with Etta, working on her laptop.

"What are you playing, Mommy?" Etta asked, looking up at Olivia from the dolly tea party she was hosting.

"I'm not playing, Baby Girl, I'm actually writing some stuff up for work," she explained.

Etta crinkled her forehead. "Oh. Is working fun?"

Olivia smiled. "I don't know that I would say it's _fun,_ necessarily. But it's an important job. And it makes Mommy happy to make sure this is a safe place to live," she explained.

Etta considered that for a moment. "When I grow up, I want to do something fun. Like work at Disney World!"

Olivia smiled, "Alright, Sweetheart. You might change your mind though. Daddy has had about a hundred different jobs."

"He told me he was a fire fighter and a teacher before he was a scientist with you, Mommy. Is that true?"

"I didn't know he had told you that! But yes, that's true. I didn't know him back then, though."

Etta screwed up her face in confusion, "You didn't? Why not?"

"We just hadn't met yet, Honey. I met your dad about seven years ago," _in another timeline, that is_, Olivia added mentally.

"Weird," Etta mumbled, going back to her toys.

Olivia smiled and went back to work.

"Breakfast is ready!" Peter called from the kitchen.

"Did you make whales?" Etta yelled out in response, causing Olivia to flinch.

"Of course they're whales! I wouldn't dream of anything else."

To this Etta giggled and dropped her toys, scampering off into the kitchen with Olivia walking right behind her. "She really doesn't walk anywhere at all, does she?" she remarked to Peter upon entering the kitchen.

"What can I say? Kid's got a lot of energy," he replied with a smile while dishing out food on their three plates.

Olivia had just refilled her mug with coffee when the home phone started ringing.

"I'll get it!" Etta exclaimed, jumping down from her booster seat and scurrying to answer the phone. "Bishop residence," she answered in a professional tone, "this is Etta."

Olivia looked at Peter in surprise. "New party trick," he whispered with a wink.

"Hi, Aunt Rachel! I had a _very_ good Christmas," Etta quickly rambled off a list of every single thing she got, pausing every thirty seconds or so to listen to Rachel's response.

"Chatty little thing, isn't she?" Olivia observed. "She definitely takes after you."

"Mommy, Aunt Rachel wants to talk to you," Etta said, shoving the phone in Olivia's direction.

"Merry Christmas, Rach," Olivia answered with a smile, walking into the hall.

Etta plopped back down into her chair. "Daddy, can you cut up my pancakes for me?"

"Sure, Sweetheart."

A couple of minutes later, Olivia returned to the kitchen. "Peter, is it okay if Rachel and the kids come stay with us for a few days?" she asked.

"Yeah of course," he replied quickly. "I'm sure Etta would love to see her cousins, wouldn't you, Kiddo?"

"Eddie and Ella are coming to visit?" Etta squeaked. "When?"

"I think they are planning on coming on the 28th, if I give them the go-ahead. I'll text her and let her know," Olivia said.

"Is everything okay, Liv?" Peter asked quietly, walking over to where she stood.

"I think Greg has started drinking again. Rachel sounded pretty upset on the phone."

Peter sighed, "I've never really liked that guy."

"It may have something to do with the fact that he was trying to sue my sister for custody when you'd first heard of him," Olivia said, "but I know what you mean. Obviously we're in the same boat. I'd just hoped it would be different this time."

"I know," Peter said, rubbing her back. "We both did. But after how he acted when we were in Chicago this summer, I'm not so sure things are that much better."

Olivia sighed, "I guess we'll see on Monday," as she walked back to the table to finish eating.

* * *

**A/N: Big thanks to everyone who's reading! In the next chapter, we'll get to see a little bit of what all has gone down since the timeline reset that day in the park. So far, the story's been so fluffy it doesn't feel like ****_Fringe_****, but some dark-ish stuff is coming up. Stay tuned, read, and review! I would love some recommendations of things you'd like to see in this story :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to castlefringereader for the review! Your wish is my command. I'm glad someone's liking this story!**

**Like I said at the end of chapter 5, this chapter isn't fluffy. It gives you some background information. But no worries, family stuff is coming up soon!**

**This has some borrowed dialog, so once again for the disclaimer: I don't own anything Fringe related.**

* * *

Olivia answered her phone without looking at the caller I.D., "Dunham."

"Ooh, how professional," Rachel answered with a small laugh. "Well, hello to you too, Sis. Just wanted to let you know the kids and I just landed at Logan. I know we're a little bit early. Where are you?"

"Well, here's the thing. I actually got called in this morning—I know, huge shocker—so I can't pick you guys up. But Peter should be on his way to the airport now. He took the morning off. I, on the other hand, don't get that luxury."

Rachel laughed, "Perks of working for Nina, I suppose. I'll call him, then. Don't work too hard! I want to see my sister tonight."

"I won't. I should be home by 5:30. Tell the kids I say hi!"

"Will do. Love you, Liv! I'll see you tonight."

"Love you too, Rach, bye," Olivia hung up the phone, took a look at her desk and sighed. She was looking over the four-month-old case file containing all the information they were able compile about Walter's last moments before disappearing. The tape he'd left them explained that he had to live out his life inthe future in order to 'save the world'. Olivia had read over the document and watched the tape so many times she had every word memorized.

_ Peter, I sent you a letter. It contains something of mine. I imagine you called me to ask, 'Why would you send such a strange letter?' And when you tried to call, I didn't answer. So you came to find me at the lab. But I was not to be found. I was here one moment and vanished from the face of the Earth the next. I want you to know I'm fine. And living many, many years from now. You will never see me again. You will never see me again because it had to be this way to ensure the future of our humanity. Your future. The future of Olivia. And the future of Etta. I don't want you to be sad. The time we had together we stole. I cheated fate to be with you. And we shouldn't have had that time together, but we did. And I wouldn't change it for the world. I don't want to say good-bye. But I will say... I love you, Son._

As Olivia read over the documentation from Walter's case, she felt the familiar ache of loss sink in her chest yet again. Exactly as Walter had predicted on the tape, Peter had gone to the lab in search of his father after being unable to reach him on that day in August. Upon finding the tape, they'd opened up a missing person case, pessimistic about anything turning up. In the months that followed, the FBI had stopped their search and filed the case away. Due to the vague details left on the tape, Olivia and Peter had no idea where—or rather, when—to start looking even if they had a way to go to the future.

With the help of Nina Sharp, Peter was now in charge of a specific task force of Massive Dynamic which was in charge of Fringe-related incidents—including but not limited to Walter's disappearance, since the FBI division had lost their lead scientist. Brandon Fayette, now Peter's right hand man, had numerous hypotheses about the origin of Walter's disappearance.

"My best guess is the seemingly overnight disappearance of all Observer activity is related to Dr. Bishop's absence, due to the timeliness. If Walter went into the future to prevent something from happening, for example, something he'd already experienced, this would create a time paradox, effectively wiping him from existence in this year," Brandon had explained recently. "Theoretically, if this were the case, we may be able to bring him back to the present if we had the means of safe time traveling, as well the four-dimensional location of his existence at the age he should be now."

The team's inability to progress further than theories why Walter disappeared was taking its toll on Peter's mental health. He had spent the first part of the past few months deeply angry about the seeming lack of substantial progress in the case. His sleep cycle had become erratic; Peter would sleep twelve hours or only fifteen minutes, depending on the day. This hade made it extremely difficult to stay focused on the job, which made him anxious. He was still working for the FBI, although his title had changed from Civilian Consultant to Corporate Liaison, as he was now chiefly employed by Massive Dynamic.

After the initial shock and anger, he'd tried to move on. Peter had tried to take some of what Walter said in the tape to heart. He picked up Etta from preschool as soon as he possibly could leave the office every day, and spent lots of his free time tutoring her independently, determined to keep his daughter engaged and enthralled with learning. Spending so much time with Etta kept Peter grounded; the more he interacted with her, the more he was able to put his mind at ease and let go of some of the weight on his shoulders.

Olivia's phone rang, causing her to jump. Looking at the screen she saw it was a video chat from Astrid. "Hey, Astrid. What's up? How's the scene looking?"

"It's been fairly normal—as far as normal can be for us. This young man, according to witnesses, just appeared in the middle of the street before being hit by a car."

"You think there might have been some sort of teleportation involved?"

Astrid took a deep breath, "Initially, I was. But once I started looking for identification, I realized something else is to blame here. Take a look at this." Astrid held up a small I.D. card with a serious expression.

Olivia squinted at her phone screen then gasped. "Is that… Is that a Show Me Card?"

Astrid nodded gravely. "He's not from over here."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked that chapter! I'm starting to get a little concerned that I have too many ideas for one story... Oh well. We'll see how that goes.**

**Review if you're interested!**


	7. Chapter 7

Olivia walked in the door to the sound of squeals and small feet running.

"Eddie! Please don't run in the house!" Rachel called after her son who was chasing Etta.

"Mommy!" Etta cried when she noticed Olivia at the door.

"Hi, Sweetie. How was your day?" Olivia greeted her daughter as she picked her up and sat her on her hip.

"It was great. Daddy picked me up from preschool early so I could go see Aunt Rachel and Ella and Eddie. Then we came here and had lunch, and played house, and took a nap, and watched _Tangled_, and now Daddy and Aunt Rachel are making dinner and Eddie and I are playing tag!" Etta quickly rambled off everything she had done that day, ticking off the events on her fingers.

"Daddy picked you up early? He didn't tell me he was doing that," Olivia replied. "Did he ever go back to work?"

"No, but he _did_ go in the office room for a little bit and was playing on the computer in there. It looked kinda boring so I left him alone," Etta explained.

Olivia smiled. Etta always assumed if someone was using a computer, they were playing games on it, no matter how often she saw Olivia working on it.

"Liv!" exclaimed Rachel as she ran to embrace her sister. "I can't believe you're actually home on time."

Olivia chuckled, "On a special occasion like this? Barring any national disasters, there's nothing that would keep me away." Olivia kissed her younger sister's cheek. "How have your travels been? Did everything go okay? Did Peter pick you up on time?"

"Yes, he did. And he surprised us by bringing Miss Etta along with him," Rachel said, poking a giggling Etta in the tummy. "Thanks again for letting us stay with you. Greg's been so busy with work, and…" Rachel trailed off, her smile faltering.

"Say no more. We can discuss later," Olivia assured her sister. "Right now, I need to see a certain niece and nephew of mine. Where are those kids?"

* * *

The rest of the evening was extremely chaotic; with the presence of Rachel, Eddie and Ella, the noise level in the house tripled. Olivia and Rachel were finally able to get Etta and Eddie asleep at 9:30—only an hour later than intended. The cousins were only a year and a half apart in age and loved playing together, which was great. Until they needed to settle down.

Olivia was surprised to see how much her niece had changed in the six months since she'd seen her, not to mention the past few years. Ella had been such a bubbly, happy little girl from what Olivia remembered of her childhood (albeit, her memories were predominantly from another timeline), but she had grown up to be a very reserved young lady. At age eleven, Ella was spending more of her time behind a book than in front of people. She had seemingly transformed from being like Rachel was during her childhood to a miniature Olivia.

Eddie, on the other hand, had Rachel's energy times ten, making him an ideal playmate for Etta. The two of them could run around the house for hours at a time before crashing. Eddie had bounced up and down as Peter had tried to get him and Etta working on the rocket building kit he'd bought her for Christmas. When his energy rubbed off on Etta, the two of them abandoned their project and instead decided to play superheroes. They'd spent the subsequent hour with blankets tied around their necks running and giggling through the halls.

While Peter struggled to keep tabs on the little ones and Ella read in the guest room, Olivia and Rachel sat in the kitchen, drinking wine and discussing Rachel's crumbling marriage. As Olivia had predicted, Greg had relapsed into alcoholism. After the long hours he spent working at his law firm in Chicago, Greg sometimes didn't come home until two in the morning, drunk, tired, and violent. "Thankfully," Rachel had explained earlier, "his late nights mean the kids haven't seen any of his tirades."

"Rach, you need to get out of there. He's hit you. You do _not_ deserve that. No woman does," Olivia gently persuaded her younger sister.

"Liv, I have no money. Greg insisted I stay at home with the kids—which I love to do, don't get me wrong—and promised he would worry about supporting us financially," she explained, teary-eyed. "But since I haven't taught in ten years, I have no way to support the kids if I leave him. Not to mention he's threatened to sue for sole custody if I were to ever try to take them away from him."

Olivia clasped her sister's hand reassuringly, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. "You know I would never let that happen. Peter and I can help you three move out here, find a place to live, and find a job. I promise I won't let those kids stay with him."

At midnight, Peter and Olivia were the only ones still awake. "This quiet almost feels weird after they day we've had, doesn't it?" Peter remarked as they were getting ready for bed.

"It's refreshing," Olivia said. "By the way, now that we're alone, I have something to tell you."

"Oh?" Peter raised his eyebrows mischievously, "And what might that be?"

"Well actually, it's work-related," Olivia corrected, noting his tone. "We sent a body over to MD this afternoon that you might wanna take a look at."

Peter frowned at this. "Well that is definitely not what I was hoping for. What is so interesting about the body?"

"It's a young guy, he's about fifteen. When we were checking his wallet for credentials, we came across his Show Me Card."

Peter froze. "He's from Over There?"

"He's from Over There," Olivia confirmed. "We wanted to see if you could run some analyses to determine what allowed him to cross over, seeing as the connection between our two worlds is not nearly as strong as it used to be, and Walternate stopped sending shape shifters Over Here years ago."

"I suppose I can do that when I get in tomorrow morning. Why didn't you call me to the scene today? I could have come after I picked up Rachel."

"I felt bad having you drop them off, leaving them alone their first day here, so I told Astrid to have Brandon come and collect samples from the scene," Olivia explained.

Peter sighed, "You know there's no way I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight with this on my mind?"

Olivia smirked at him as she climbed into bed. "Sorry 'bout that. But at least you have something interesting to look forward to?" she tried to reason.

Peter smiled, "Nice try. But alright. 'Night, Love," he said, snuggling up behind her.

"Good night," Olivia breathed in reply.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I have an idea of some of the overarching storylines to come, now. If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to follow canon as much as possible. Hope you all liked this chapter!**


	8. Chapter 8

_A shot rang out. Olivia turned around, taking in the scene around her. She was somewhere inside of a warehouse with Peter and Walter. "Etta," she whispered urgently. The three of them took off running down the hallway and onto a catwalk, stopping at the sight of a young woman slouched against the wall. _

_"Etta," Peter said under his breath as he, Walter and Olivia ran down the stairs, towards the young woman. "No, no, no, no, no." Peter put pressure on the woman's gunshot wound, attempting to stop the bleeding in her chest._

_"Etta, look at me, okay? You're going to be okay. But we have to move you," Olivia quietly reassured the young woman, crouching down in front of her. When she looked into her eyes she saw the same eyes that looked back at her every day: Peter's eyes. And Henrietta's. The young woman in front of Olivia was her daughter._

_"No. There's no point," Etta responded._

_"We're not gonna leave you," Peter soothed, cupping his hand on her cheek as he so often did his wife._

_"You have to," the dying girl said to Peter and Olivia. Olivia was flustered, shaking, and anxiously trying to decide what to do. "You have to leave me."_

_"Etta," Olivia said quietly and urgently, with as much conviction as she possibly could, firmly placing her hands on either side of her daughter's head, "Etta, I love you so much."_

_Etta smiled faintly. "I know," she said, weakly lifting up her hand to her mother's. It contained _The Bullet That Saved the World_, as Peter so affectionately called it, on a chain, covered in blood._

_"No, no, no," Peter repeated over and over again, completely distraught. "No, I can't leave you. Not again. No, no." Etta's consciousness faded as her father clutched her to him, grasping her hair between his fingers._

Olivia awoke with a gasp, sitting up. Her body was shaking with small, strong tremors and her pajamas were damp with sweat.

"Livia?" Peter sleepily asked. "You alright? What time is it?"

"I… I don't know," she responded, her voice shaky. "Sorry for waking you."

Becoming more alert at her tone, Peter rolled over to face his wife. "Honey, what's wrong? Did you have the dream again?" Olivia nodded and laid back down, facing Peter. "You know you can tell me. I want to help you," Peter soothed her, wiping away the damp streak on her face left from tears.

"I don't really remember what happened," Olivia lied, not wanting to upset her husband, "there isn't much to tell. I'm fairly awake now though, so I think I'll go check on Henrietta."

Olivia quickly slipped out of bed, pulled a throw blanket around her shoulders and headed down the hall. As she silently opened the door, Olivia smiled. In the faint glow of her nightlight, Etta was sprawled across her twin-sized bed, taking up as much room as her little body possibly could. Her face was turned towards Olivia, chubby cheeks smushing her face until her tiny lips puckered. Cautiously walking towards her, Olivia kneeled next to her daughter, tentatively grabbing her hand. She could hear the soft sucking sound Etta made when she was fast asleep. Olivia closed her eyes and leaned her head against the bed, slowly inhaling her daughter's scent. "I love you, Baby Girl," she murmured, resting her head against Etta's bed.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I know it's short and I know I haven't updated in a few days and for that, I'm sorry. I am super busy with one of my clubs at school! **

**Thanks to everyone who left a review! I really appreciate them and I'm glad you guys are liking the story :) I'll be updating again more frequently after this weekend.**


	9. Chapter 9

When Olivia's alarm went off the next morning and wasn't turned off within the usual two second time frame, Peter groaned and turned over, only to discover her side of the bed was empty. He rolled over and turned off the alarm before groggily climbing out of bed to look for his wife. It wasn't unusual for Olivia to wake up before her alarm, but when she did, she always turned it off so as not to wake Peter.

"Livia?" he called out. When she didn't answer, Peter reluctantly stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. He went down to the kitchen and was surprised to find it empty. After checking the living room, office and bathroom, Peter started to wonder if she'd left early for a case, so he called her phone. After about five seconds, Peter realized he could hear her phone and followed the sound of it back to their bedroom. Olivia's phone was still on her nightstand.

Peter went to Etta's room, thinking he could put her in her car seat and drive to the federal building to look for Olivia while Etta slept, but when he opened the door to her room, he found Olivia leaning against their daughter's bed, hand in hand with the three-year-old, asleep.

Peter quietly walked over to Etta's bed, carefully avoiding stepping on the toys that littered the floor, _I really have to teach her to clean up after herself_, he thought. Peter rubbed Olivia's shoulder, "Liv," he whispered in her ear, "it's 6:15, you have to wake up."

Olivia stirred, frowning when she opened her eyes and saw that she was still in her daughter's room, "What's wrong?" she asked sleepily.

"Well unless I'm mistaken, you have to go to work in an hour. So you may want to go shower and get ready," Peter answered quietly, trying not to wake up Etta.

Olivia wordlessly got up, stretching her sore neck and went into the hall, Peter following her. After he shut the door to their daughter's bedroom, he turned to Olivia. "Are you okay? Why were you sleeping in there? It couldn't have been comfortable."

"No, that was most certainly not the most comfortable position I've ever slept in," Olivia groaned, stretching once again.

"Olivia, is everything alright?" Peter asked again, gently pushing her hands away and working out the knots in her neck and upper back.

"Yeah it's fine. I just must have fallen asleep when I went to go check on Etta," she answered, giving him a sheepish smile. "Thanks for coming to get me," she said, kissing him softly before going to the bathroom to shower.

Peter followed Olivia with his eyes as she closed the bathroom door. Something felt off about her. Figuring she obviously didn't want to talk about it right then, and not to mention she was running fifteen minutes late, Peter decided to let it go… at least for a little bit.

Olivia cranked up the heat in the shower, willing it to melt away her sore muscles as she quickly washed her hair. She was as confused as Peter when she woke up in her daughter's room. It only took her a minute to remember the night before. She'd had another nightmare. This one was different though; before last night, the woman who had died had just been a blur. Olivia never knew who she was. Olivia felt like she needed to shower from the inside out and rid herself of the memory—_no, dream_, she corrected herself—of a twenty-something-year-old Etta bleeding to death on the floor of a dusty old warehouse. But the thing that bothered her most was that the dream didn't _feel _like a dream. It felt like a memory. Olivia couldn't shake the sense of déjà vu that overcame her as she pondered the dream once more.

Getting out of the shower and wrapping her hair up in a towel, Olivia couldn't help but once again wish Walter was there. Whenever she experienced something particularly weird, he always had an idea of what to do, or at least some explanation of what might be happening. Olivia felt guilty not telling Peter about her dream, but she didn't know what exactly _to_ tell him. She had a foreboding sense that it was much more than a simple nightmare, but she had no idea what to do about that feeling.

Olivia quickly dressed and put on a couple swipes of mascara. Careful not to make too much noise—Peter, Etta, Rachel, Eddie and Ella were all still sleeping—Olivia nimbly climbed down the stairs and popped a couple pieces of bread in the toaster.

Scanning the newspaper while she ate, her phone started ringing. "Dunham," she answered curtly.

"We have some more information on the Alex Jefferies case. Report to Massive Dynamic's Fringe lab as soon as possible," Broyles answered immediately. "And bring Bishop."

"Got it," Olivia answered immediately before Broyles hung up the phone. Special Agent Phillip Broyles was certainly not one for pleasantries.

Olivia went to her and Peter's bedroom and opened the door to see him sprawled out across the bed. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she said with a grin. "You're wanted in the lab."

Peter groaned, "Isn't it supposed to be my day off? I specifically remember asking for today off."

"You should know better than to think the FBI honors personal days. You've been around plenty long to learn vacation days are laughable in Fringe division," Olivia said in a low voice, kissing him awake. "How much longer till you're ready?"

"Mmmm… two days?"

"Get up, Peter."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since my last update! This chapter has been in the works for awhile, but I decided to split it up into two different ones because it was getting fairly long. **

**This was originally supposed to be a ficlet, but I just kept going. That's why the title is basically irrelevant... Sorry! I'm not so sure I should rename it this late into the game though...**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Woo, Chapter 10! This is my longest chapter to date. You're welcome. **

**Thanks for reviews! I'm so glad people are liking the story. I finally mapped out some major storylines, and I have an idea of where things are going now. I may also do a couple short prequels to this (which would double as one-shots) and a sequel depending on the reception. **

**Without any further ado, here's chapter 10!**

* * *

After apologizing about twenty times to Rachel for leaving her alone with the kids, Olivia and Peter got into Olivia's Volvo and drove to Massive Dynamic. Peter was shivering in his peacoat as he cradled his coffee mug between his palms. He'd had about 15 minutes to shower and get in the car, and his hair was nearly freezing in the chilly late December air. "So why exactly did Broyles demand I come in on my day off?" he asked, annoyed.

"Apparently there have been some developments in the Alex Jefferies case," Olivia replied.

"The kid from the other side? What else has happened?"

"I'm not sure. I was just instructed to come in and bring you," Olivia shrugged. "I guess we'll see in a few minutes."

When they arrived at Massive Dynamic and got past security, Nina greeted the two of them warmly, embracing Olivia. "So nice to see you again, Olivia. We really need to catch up soon. And I need to see that little girl of yours!" Nina gushed. "How's she been doing lately?"

Olivia smiled, "Etta's great. Kind of a fireball. But I agree, we should set something up! Rachel and the kids are in town for the next few days, you must come over for dinner."

"I would love that! Now, before Phillip gets too impatient, the body is in your lab, Peter," Nina said, turning to face him. "Brandon will catch the two of you up to speed quickly, I'm sure.

As soon as Olivia and Peter arrived at the 23rd floor, Brandon greeted them, "Good morning Agent Dunham, Peter. How much has Agent Broyles told you so far about our discoveries?"

"So far? Next to nothing," replied Peter. "What is exactly is it that you uncovered?"

"Well naturally," Brandon began, "we reaffirmed that the victim was indeed from the Other Side. Aside from his show me card, he had a $20 bill with Martin Luther King, Jr.'s face on it. We also checked into Alex Jefferies. He's a high school student in Marlborough. Attends the Advanced Math & Science Academy Charter School. He's a bright kid, near the top of his class. But, what I'm getting at is we were able to track him down. He's definitely not the kid currently lying on our table. It's probably safe to say the boy we have really is his doppelgänger from Over There."

Peter and Olivia frowned synchronously. "So he is actually from the Other Side. That still doesn't explain how he got here," Peter said, brow furrowed. "The bridge is down. The link between our universes has been severed. As we've seen in the past, there isn't quite a safe way for someone to pass between universes, unless—"

"Unless they can do so independently. The way the cortexiphan kids crossed over," Olivia finished. "Brandon, did you run a tox screen on the vic? See if he had anything abnormal in his system?"

"We did, but your standard screen doesn't check for the presence of drugs like cortexiphan. I'll tell the lab techs to examine his blood samples more carefully, specifically looking for that," Brandon said, making a note of it in a legal pad.

"You may wanna do a spinal tap," Peter suggested. "Although cortexiphan is often injected into the bloodstream, it may not be traceable there. In my experience, it stays dormant in cerebrospinal fluid, in much the same way that the varicella-zoster virus does, potentially for years after treatment."

As they continued to talk the biology and genetics of exactly how cortexiphan interacted with the body, Olivia's eyes glazed over. It was just like being back in the Kresge lab with Walter and Peter talking science that went over her head. "Alright, well if you boys got everything under control here, I'm gonna go to the federal building and see what Astrid's managed to dig up on the case."

After Olivia left, Brandon and Peter continued talking the case. "Since he is confirmed to be from the other universe," Brandon explained, "we're trying to see if we can get in contact with them. We really don't have any way of investigating the case since all of the evidence aside from this body is… unreachable, to say the least."

"How are you going about getting in contact with the other side?" Peter asked. "Did you find something in Walter's notes?" Since Walter had disappeared and the scientific examination of Fringe events had been taken over by Massive Dynamic, the team had extensively catalogued Walter and William Bell's past experiments, hoping to gain some of the background knowledge that Walter had on different events.

"We were looking into using the typewriter that Ms. Sharp had used to communicate with William Bell, when he was Over There. The only problem is, we're not entirely sure where that ended up—on their side, that is. We have Nina's typewriter, but after Dr. Bell was taken into custody, we were unable to learn whether or not a message could be received by someone helpful," Brandon said.

"Has anyone even tried sending a message? That would probably be the easiest way to potentially confirm that method of communication," Peter said.

Brandon looked embarrassed, "Well, no. Not exactly. We wanted to get Agent Broyles's opinion before sending something. We have been required to have any messages approved by the Department of Homeland Security before they're sent."

Peter sighed, "Okay. Then it appears we better get to work drafting something up."

By the time Olivia picked up Peter from the federal building and the two of them got home, it was already 7:30 pm. As soon as Olivia closed the garage door, she called out for Rachel, intending to start a long winded apology. Rachel rounded the corner and waved at Olivia, her ear pressed to her cell phone.

"Uh huh, yeah, that would be wonderful! I'm sure the kids would love to visit," Rachel paused as the person on the line responded. "Tomorrow works for us, definitely. I can be at the airport whenever… Okay, 8:30? Sounds good. I'll tell Ella and Eddie. Thanks, Nina! Love you, bye," Rachel finished, hanging up the phone. "Nina's flying the kids and me to New York to spend the day with her tomorrow," she told Olivia enthusiastically. "I told her about everything with Greg and she's gonna have me meet with one of the company's lawyers. She said she will take the kids to the Met and the Statue of Liberty during the day!"

"Rach, that sounds perfect! Nina has amazing connections, I'm sure she'll make sure everything goes well," Olivia replied with a smile, hugging her sister. "I'm so sorry you've been alone with the kids all day. Work is…"

"Crazy, I know," Rachel finished with a smile. "Don't worry about it. They were great. We just hung out and watched movies and Etta and Eddie played games, since the weather was so terrible. Oh, by the way, Nina isn't the only adult I spoke to today," Rachel told her sister, her tone changing. "Greg called."

Olivia started, "What did he say to you?"

"Liv, don't get worried. He called to apologize about everything that happened. He said he's getting help."

Olivia sighed, frustrated. "That doesn't excuse the past. You can't just let him off that easy."

"Don't worry, I didn't. I'm still going through with the divorce, I think. But I do need to talk everything over with him. Like the adults that we are," Rachel said.

"When did you get so wise? I thought I was supposed to be the older sister," Olivia teased her.

Rachel smiled. "I think your wisdom has been rubbing off on me. I'm gonna go check on Eddie and make sure he's still getting ready for bed. I'll see you in the morning," Rachel said, kissing Olivia on the cheek. "Love you!"

Peter walked into the kitchen as Rachel was walking out. "Etta is in bed and almost asleep," he announced. "Long day?"

"Always. Especially since I didn't sleep so well last night."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that. What's up? Are you okay?" Peter asked, concerned, as he poured two glasses of scotch.

Olivia sighed. "I've always been a bit of an insomniac, Peter," she smiled weakly at him, "you know that."

Grasping her hand, Peter led Olivia into the living room. "I know that. But something seems… off about you."

"Really, it's nothing," Olivia reassured him. "Don't worry about me."

"If you insist," Peter said reluctantly. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

"Sure," Olivia smiled, "Your pick."

Peter stared at their small movie collection for a few seconds before popping one into the DVD player.

"_The Artist_? Really?" Olivia asked. "There's no way I'll stay awake for this whole thing," she remarked, finishing off her drink.

"Good," said Peter, taking a seat next to her on the couch. "You need sleep."

"Mmm," Olivia hummed contentedly, snuggling into his chest. "I love you, you know."

"I do," Peter smiled, running his fingers through her hair.


	11. Chapter 11

For the first time in a long time, Olivia got out of work at a decent time on a holiday. On New Year's Eve, she left the federal building at 4:00 pm. She, Peter, and Rachel had plans to go out for dinner and drinks with Astrid and her girlfriend Alice, whom they had yet to meet. Ella and Nina were tag-team babysitting Eddie and Etta, much to Ella's dismay. At age eleven, she was finally getting invited to more parties and therefore had something she could be doing with friends her own age, if she had been back in Chicago, that is. Peter had promised Ella to pay her for babysitting, which had made her perk up a little.

After picking Peter up at Massive Dynamic and Etta at MD's childcare facility (which offered state-of-the-art everything for preschoolers) , the family drove home to get ready for the evening. Etta was bouncing up in down with excitement explaining the "Noon Year's Eve" party her preschool class had thrown. "We drank bubbly grape juice and had noise makers and yelled a countdown and it was just wonderful, Mommy and Daddy, it truly was," she rambled dreamily.

"Sounds like it, Sweetie," Olivia replied, eyeing her daughter in the rear view mirror. "I'm glad you had such a fun day."

"Me too! Did you have a Noon Year's Eve party too?"

"Actually, Kiddo, Mommy and Daddy are going out for dinner with Aunt Rachel and Aunt Astrid tonight to celebrate the New Year," Peter told her.

"What about me?" Etta said, widening her eyes with worry. "You can't leave me home alone. I'm too little."

"Don't worry, Baby Girl, we're not leaving you alone. Nina's coming over to hang out with you, Ella and Eddie. You guys are gonna have a party of your own while we're out doing grown up things," Olivia assured her.

Etta settled a bit, but still looked uneasy. "Alright," she said. Etta's emotions were volatile; she was quick to jump from happy to scared to sleepy to angry, which always kept Peter and Olivia on their toes. Walter had hypothesized that she might have some emotional extra-sensitivity due to her prenatal exposure to cortexiphan, but if that were the case, the side effects weren't anything abnormal.

When they got home, Etta ran in the door and plopped down in front of her keyboard. Since Christmas, Peter had been teaching her to read and play music. Unlike her mother, who quit the oboe after six months, and her father, who hated structured lessons, Etta loved learning how to play her miniature keyboard, which may have been a direct consequence of her father's enthusiastic approach to teaching.

While Etta went to town playing some songs out of a book Nina had gotten her and Olivia went upstairs to get ready for the night, Peter sat down on the couch reading over a recent cortexiphan molecular analysis that had been performed by Massive Dynamic. Although he had a higher salary, better hours and better benefits now that he was employed by Massive Dynamic, he missed the lack of paperwork that went along with being a Civilian Consultant to the FBI. Working for a research institute meant lots of reading research proposals, as he was part of the compulsory Internal Review Board.

"Daddy," Etta called to him in a sing-song voice, "where are Aunt Rachel and Ella and Eddie? I miss them."

"Aunt Rachel has a meeting. I'm pretty sure Ella and Eddie are with Nina right now, but they'll be here soon," Peter replied, smiling at his daughter over his laptop, as she continued playing for him.

Suddenly, Etta stopped playing. "I miss Grandpa Walter," she said sadly. Before having gone missing, Walter spent nearly as much time with Etta as Peter and Olivia did. Etta had played in the makeshift playroom they'd set up in the office of the Kresge lab every day while Peter, Walter and Astrid worked. In his free time, Walter made her homemade candy in the lab, told her stories, and invented games for his granddaughter. Walter always seemed remarkably more lucid when Etta was around; she seemed to have some sort of grounding effect on him. As in love as Walter was with Etta, she was equally enthralled with him. Walter's child-like demeanor made him an excellent playmate for her.

When Walter had disappeared, Etta had taken it very hard. Without anything concrete to tell their daughter, Peter and Olivia struggled to help Etta understand that they didn't know where her grandfather was, much less if or when he was coming back. In the months that had followed, Etta had asked about Walter's whereabouts frequently. Though it happened less and less as time passed, it still broke Peter's heart a little bit every time his daughter brought up Walter.

"I know, Sweetheart," Peter said sadly, pushing his work to the side to sit next to Etta. "I miss him too." He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her onto his lap and kissing the top of her head. "I'm sure Grandpa misses you a lot too."

"Yeah, he always said I was his favorite birthday present he ever got," she said proudly. "Do you think Grandpa will come back for our birthday this year?"

"I don't think so, Etta. I'm sorry. But I know that if he could, Grandpa Walter would be here right now," Peter said sadly. "But then Aunt Nina would have to babysit you, Ella, Eddie, _and_ Walter, and I don't know if she could handle that."

Etta giggled, "Daddy, that's ridiculous. Grandpa's grown up. He doesn't need a babysitter."

"You'd think so, but he really never acts like a grown up, does he?" Peter asked, to which Etta shook her head, causing her pigtails to hit him in the face. "Hey now! Be careful with those. You could poke my eyes out."

Etta gave him a disapproving look. "I'm pretty sure my hair is in no way sharp enough to poke your eyes out."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right," Peter feigned a look of contemplation. "When did you get so smart?" he asked, tickling her and causing her to laugh her signature high-pitched giggle.

Olivia smiled when she turned off the hot water, hearing Etta's laugh echoing through the house. She got dressed in a simple dark green shift dress, remembering how earlier that week, Rachel had pled with her to "please don't wear some stuffy suit you wear to work", even though Olivia would have been so much more comfortable in pants.

Olivia blow dried her hair and started to twist it into a simple updo, when she noticed Peter standing behind her in the mirror. "I think you should leave it down," he said in a low voice, kissing her neck. "And by the way, I approve of your dress," he murmured, sliding his hands down to her hips.

"You know, this isn't helping the whole 'getting ready' process," Olivia said half-heartedly. "I still have to do my makeup. And curl my hair if I'm going to wear it down."

Peter groaned, "Fine. But are you sure you wanna go out for dinner and drinks? I would be just fine if we stayed here and had our own party."

"Yes I'm sure you would," Olivia rolled her eyes. Peter forgot anything and everything anytime she tried to dress nicely. "Think you can take a rain check for a few hours? We haven't had a chance to meet Alice. Considering I spend nearly all my time with Astrid, I think we should get to know her girlfriend. Especially since they've been together for a few months now."

"Alright, alright," he huffed, chastely kissing Olivia on the lips. "If you say so. But I'm holding you to that rain check!" he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the shower.

Olivia smiled to herself, sitting down in front of her vanity to do her makeup. About thirty seconds in, she heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Come in!"

Etta pushed the door open and ogled her mother, "Mama, you look beautiful."

"Thanks, Sweetie. Aunt Rachel insisted I had to dress up for dinner tonight."

"I don't normally dress up for dinner," pondered Etta aloud, "but that's because sometimes I get food on my clothes so fancy clothes would be a bad idea. Make sure you don't spill on your pretty dress, Mama," she warned Olivia. "That would be bad probably."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll make sure to be very careful about spilling anything on my dress," Olivia replied as her phone started ringing.

"Can I answer?" Etta asked. Receiving a nod from Olivia, she picked up her mother's cell phone. "Bishop Residence, this is Etta," she answered formally. "Hi Nina! I'm very excited for our party tonight… Okay, I will let Mommy know. Love you too! Bye," Etta hung up the phone, "That was Nina. She said that she is coming over now with Ella and Eddie and Aunt Rachel and they will be here soon."

"Thanks, Kiddo," Olivia said, receiving her cell phone from Etta.

"Would you look at that? My two favorite girls," said Peter walking out of the bathroom in his boxers and a t shirt. "And you both are looking beautiful this evening, I might add."

"I think you should wear something else," Etta criticized him, furrowing her eyebrows. "Your outfit does not go with Mama's at _all_."

"Well, I'll have you know, I am actually going to wear something else," Peter laughed, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

"Daddy, stop it! Your hair is wet. And you're getting_ me_ all wet!" Etta complained, pushing herself away.

"Sorry, Princess," Peter said, setting her down on his and Olivia's bed. "All better?"

Etta nodded, hopped off their bed and ran down the stairs to play some more without another word.

Olivia sat on the bed and watched Peter as he got dressed, looking thoughtful. As Peter caught her gaze, he paused. "What are you looking at?" he asked playfully.

"You know, I never did answer your question," Olivia replied after a beat.

"And what question is that?"

"The one about trying again. Having another baby," Olivia said quietly.

"Oh?" Peter raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I…" Olivia hesitated, "I think I might be ready. To start trying, I mean."

Peter grinned slowly. Closing the distance between them, he urgently captured her mouth with his.

"Well, I didn't mean we needed to start trying now," Olivia breathed between kisses.

"You know, you're driving me crazy tonight," Peter groaned, trailing kisses down Olivia's jaw and making her shiver.

"Liv? Peter?" Rachel called from downstairs. "We just got back! I'm gonna get changed really quick and then we can go pick up Astrid if you guys are ready."

"Yep, we'll be down in a moment," Olivia called after her sister. Kissing Peter once more, she stood up from her place on the bed. "Come on," she said with a wry smile, "we can finish this later."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry I didn't get this up sooner! I couldn't decide how I wanted to end it.**

**Some of this chapter was based off my life; I had a "Noon Year's Eve" Party at my preschool when I was little. Also, having been born on my Grandpa's birthday, he always called me the best birthday present he ever got. **


	12. Chapter 12

_ Olivia opened her eyes and took in the bright sunlight. She was walking through a forest filled with tall, sparse trees, and occasionally, she stepped over a fallen one. Next to her was the familiar young blonde woman, _Etta_, she corrected herself. A few yards away, Peter and Walter were walking in the same direction._

_ "You know, I used to imagine this—going on a mission with you," Etta admitted. "You have no idea how many battles we won together."_

_ Olivia smiled nervously. "You know, that's a lot to live up to."_

_ Etta paused. "No, you're… you're more than I imagined."_

Olivia woke up with a start, confused. This dream wasn't a nightmare. Etta wasn't dying; she was alive and healthy and moving around. But this dream still left Olivia with the familiar ache in her chest. Originally, she had tried to write off her recurring nightmare as some sort of internal fear of losing her daughter manifesting itself in an unusual way—ignoring the sense she'd already lived the event. However, after her most recent dream, Olivia didn't know what to think.

Glancing at her alarm, she realized it was 8:00 am, and she was due to take Rachel and the kids to the airport in a couple hours. Olivia was surprised to realize that Broyles had honored her request for a day off. On New Year's Eve, he had told Olivia that since their case load was a little slow, she could use up some of her vacation days for January first and fourth if she wanted, giving her a four day weekend. Olivia had eagerly accepted, excited to spend some time with her family. Now that it was Monday, Olivia had gone shopping with Rachel, Ella and Etta, taken Etta and Eddie to Chuck E Cheese, had a rare date night with Peter while Rachel babysat, and cleaned the entire house. Having four days off was an uncommon thing for Olivia and she was not good at sitting still.

Pulling on a pair of athletic leggings and one of Peter's wrinkled button downs, Olivia quietly slipped out of bed and went downstairs to make breakfast for everyone.

Etta came hobbling down the stairs as Olivia was pouring the batter into the waffle iron. "Morning, Mama," she said, rubbing her eyes. "What's for breakfast?"

"Good Morning, Beautiful," Olivia greeted her daughter, kissing the top of her head and smoothing her sleep-crumpled curls. "I'm making waffles. Is there anything else you think we should have?"

Etta thoughtfully tapped a finger to her lips in an almost comical manner. "Maybe some bacon and eggs. I think Daddy would like that. Also strawberry sauce. Because you need that if you make waffles," she said seriously.

"Very true," Olivia said, matching Etta's serious tone. "Do you wanna help me cook?"

Etta nodded quickly, and ran to grab her step stool. Dragging it over to the counter, she climbed up and looked at her mother expectantly. "What would you like me to do?"

Olivia smiled, "How about I crack the eggs and you can stir them?"

* * *

Peter woke up to his favorite smell—the smell of bacon. He inhaled deeply and smiled. "That's my girl," he murmured, knowing Etta must have requested it. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a plain white V-neck, he walked downstairs to greet his family.

"Good morning, Princess," he said, picking up Etta. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded. "I had a dream that I could fly!" Etta exclaimed, spreading out her arms like wings. "I flew to Disney World and went on rides with all of the princesses."

"Did you bring me with you?" Peter asked, to which Etta shook her head. "That sounds pretty great. I'm bummed I missed out."

"Sorry, Daddy. Maybe next time."

The door to the basement opened, revealing Ella and Eddie. "Morning," sang Ella. "Mom's in the shower still, but she should be up soon."

"What smells so good?" asked Eddie curiously, standing on his tip toes in order to see the food on the counter.

"My mommy and I made eggs and bacon and waffles with strawberry sauce," Etta said, proud of her handiwork.

"Aunt Liv, can we start eating now?" Ella asked. "I'm too hungry to wait for my mom."

"Sure," laughed Olivia. "Just make sure we save some for her, okay?"

After everyone had finished eating, Rachel and her kids went downstairs to finish packing up all their stuff, Etta went upstairs to brush her teeth and get ready for day care, and Peter and Olivia began washing the dishes.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Peter asked Olivia as he took a wet plate from her and began drying it. "You seemed less restless than normal. This whole 'trying for number two' thing wearing you out?" he asked mischievously.

Olivia blushed, "I don't know, maybe it is. Or maybe it was chasing your daughter around the arcade at Chuck E Cheese yesterday."

"I would guess a combination of the both. Are you still planning on taking Rachel and the kids to the airport? Or do you need me to do it?"

As Peter asked that, he sparked an idea in Olivia. "Actually, I think I have some errands to run. I was just gonna drop off some of the paperwork I brought home from work, and I think I should hit the gym. I've been on desk duty too long. I'm afraid I'm getting out of shape. Could you take them to Logan for me?"

"Sure," smiled Peter, kissing Olivia quickly. "In that case, I'm gonna go change. Think you can finish the rest of these dishes without me?"

"I believe I can manage it," Olivia called after Peter as he bounded up the stairs.

Packing a bag for the gym and for work, Olivia changed into jeans and a plain grey t shirt and pulled her hair up into a pony tail. Olivia helped Rachel and Ella load up their luggage into Peter's SUV, then kissed and hugged everyone goodbye.

"Make sure you call me when you land," she reminded Rachel. "Also, call me and keep me updated with everything that happens with Greg. Or call me if you need anything. I always have my phone on me."

"Alright, Liv, I'll call you if I breathe or sneeze or anything in between," Rachel said tiredly. "Don't you worry about us. We'll be fine. I love you," she finished, kissing her sister on the cheek once more.

"Love you, too. Hope you guys have a safe trip!" She called, getting in her car and driving off.

Since it was a Monday and Peter was about to take her sister and her family to the airport, Olivia knew it would be her only chance in the foreseeable future where she had free time to stop at Massive Dynamic while Peter was otherwise preoccupied.

When she got to MD and security buzzed her through, Olivia walked briskly to the elevator and hit the button to go up to the 23rd floor. When she arrived, she received a curious look from Brandon. "Agent Dunham," he greeted her, "what a pleasant surprise. Ms. Sharp didn't tell us you'd be in today. Is everything alright?"

"Actually, no," she sighed, "I need your help with something."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you guys are liking the story! I really, really love reading your reviews :)**


	13. Chapter 13

After dropping off Rachel, Ella and Eddie at the airport and Etta at preschool, Peter started making his way back home.

"This is Peter Bishop," he answered his phone after it vibrated against his leg.

"Mr. Bishop, this is Aaliyah," one of the lab technicians greeted him. "Are you planning on coming in today?"

"I wasn't. Why? Has something happened?"

"Well," she began, "yes actually. You see, I noticed the paper in the typewriter had some words on it. Mr. Bishop, I think you've got a message from Secretary Bishop. A message from the other side."

* * *

After Olivia spent an hour explaining her recurring nightmare and her more recent dream to Brandon, as well as the foreboding feeling that these were memories, not dreams, he went to work in his office trying to formulate different theories to explain what was happening.

Olivia felt bad going behind Peter's back to get answers, but she didn't want to worry him. At least, not until she had some sort of explanation as to what exactly was going on.

"Dr. Bishop was present in both of these dreams, correct?" Brandon asked Olivia, while rifling through his notes.

"Yes, Walter was there. Why?"

"If his tape is correct, Dr. Bishop is living out his life in the future. You mentioned that in your dreams, Etta is a young woman," Brandon began.

"Yes, she's probably around 23 to 25 years old in them," Olivia affirmed.

"Well, it could be possible that your dreams are glimpsing some sort of alternate timeline," Brandon hypothesized. "One that included your presence in the future where Walter is living out his days."

"But if that's the case, why were Peter and I still our current ages in the dream?" Olivia asked, trying to wrap her head around what Brandon was saying. "And what purpose would jumping twenty years into the future serve?"

"Dr. Bishop's tapes seem to insinuate that he is in the future in order to prevent an event that is the turning point for a life-threatening timeline," Brandon reminded her. "If that's the case, perhaps the dreams you're having take place around that time. Although, it seems unlikely that he would jump a short distance in time. Based on our theories, it would be unnecessary for him to jump to a time when he, you and Peter may still be alive. I'm afraid I can't tell you anymore about your dreams without more data," Brandon said, apologetically. "If the dreams continue, please let me know. We can add any information you may gather in your dreams to the file I've started and expand on our theory based on that."

"Is there anything I can do to speed up the process of remembering or dreaming?" Olivia asked. "I think this could be a huge lead and I want to get going on it."

"Well from what I recall, we determined that your exposure to cortexiphan accelerated the retrieval of memories from the timeline where Peter is from a few years ago," Brandon said hesitantly.

"You think I should take more cortexiphan?" asked Olivia, a sense of dread filling her stomach.

"I'm not saying I think you should. But I do think there's a decent chance that it would help you have more dreams or memories of these events," said Brandon quickly. "But it doesn't have to happen now. Or even at all. Why don't you take a couple days to think about all of this and let me know what you decide? Then we can go from there."

"I will let you know. Oh and Brandon? Please don't tell anything to Peter. I don't want him to know just yet."

"Don't want me to know what?" said Peter, leaning against the doorframe to Brandon's office.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short compared to the last few! But I couldn't resist ending it like that :)**

**Also, a few reviews have really been wanting Olivia and Peter to discuss the dreams. So I'm forcing them into it. You'll get your wish soon enough.**


	14. Chapter 14

"Peter," Olivia said, feeling panicked, guilty, anxious, and a whole other mix of emotions she couldn't quite process, "what are you doing here?"

"I got a call from a lab tech about a case development. But also I work here," Peter replied with an accusatory tone. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were running to the federal building and the gym."

"I was. I just had to confer with Brandon about a case," Olivia said slowly, not wanting to have an all-out fight in the middle of Peter's lab.

"Brandon? Can I see you for a moment?" a lab tech peered in the room apologetically.

"Sure," he answered. "I'll give you two some privacy," he directed towards Peter and Olivia.

They fell silent and Brandon's footsteps echoed across the shiny white tiled floor as he walked out of his office and closed the door, leaving Peter and Olivia alone together.

"Olivia," Peter said with a mix of determination, worry, and anger bubbling under the surface of his seemingly calm voice, "can you please tell me what is going on?"

Olivia bit her bottom lip and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. "I don't know," she whispered.

Sensing the fear in her voice, Peter took the chair next to her, sat down, and grasped her hand. Coaxingly, he murmured, "What's wrong, Sweetheart? Talk to me. Please."

Olivia took a deep breath and recounted what she had told Brandon. She told Peter the details of her nightmare, how it prevented her from sleeping at night because all she could see when she closed _her_ eyes was the life fading from her daughter's. She explained how it felt like more than a dream, how she felt like she had lived it. She told him about her most recent dream, how it had only been a minute long, and had not been particularly happy or sad. How it had made it harder to ignore the first one. As Olivia sat there in Brandon's office, shaking slightly with tears welling her in eyes and a lump in her throat, Peter remained silent, never breaking eye contact with her. He kept her hand clasped in his and rubbed slow reassuring circles with his thumb.

"I didn't want to tell you any of this yet, because I don't know what it means," Olivia said apologetically. "I'm sorry. I know you must be mad."

"Baby, I'm not mad," Peter said, voice full of reassurance, "I'm worried about you. That's a lot for one person to handle. You need to tell me these things so we can work them out together, okay?"

Olivia wiped the stray tear that fell out of her eye with the back of her hand. "Alright. I will," she said, giving him a sad smile, as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her tight and kissing her hair.

"If you'd like to get your mind off this, I did come here for a reason," Peter said a couple minutes after Olivia had calmed down. "You know the message we sent to the Fringe Division Over There? Apparently we've received some sort of response."

Olivia looked at him startled. "Really? Broyles wasn't really counting on getting a response at all, much less this soon," she said eagerly. "Let's go, I want to see what it says."

Peter led Olivia out of the offices and into one of the smaller laboratory rooms where William Bell's typewriter was being kept. The hallway was chaotic; about ten different laboratory specialists, Brandon, Astrid, Philip Broyles, and Nina Sharp were crowded around the room.

"Agent Dunham," Broyles greeted Olivia, "good to see you. Couldn't stay away from all the action, could you?"

Olivia smiled, not wanting to explain her real, non-work-related reason for being there. "You caught me. What's this about the response? What does it say?"

"We're currently making copies for your case files as well as our own internal affairs files," Nina explained. "I can get you a copy soon."

"Secretary Bishop said in the message that he doesn't know how Alex Jefferies got over here," Broyles explained. "However, he did assure us that he would have his team dig into his missing persons case and get us more intel as soon as possible."

"There's something else," piped up Aaliyah, Brandon's head lab assistant, "Alex Jefferies's spinal tap results came back. He had massive quantities of cortexiphan in his system at his time of death."

"Walternate has sworn off testing cortexiphan on children," Peter stated, "there's no way he'd be sending kids over here that way. And he has no reason to do so; we've just demonstrated that we have a clear means of communication with his team."

Olivia frowned, "If Walternate didn't send Alex Jefferies over, then who did?"

* * *

**A/N: Any guesses on who's dosing kids with cortexiphan? If you're correct you win a prize! (The prize may or may not be imaginary, but minor details) Three updates in less than 24 hours cuz I'm nice. But that also means proof reading was minimal, so I apologize for any errors!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm back! Sorry it's been so long since I last updated. School has been absolutely crazy lately. **

* * *

For the two weeks after hearing from Walternate, Fringe Division Over Here was swamped with investigations. Agents were practically camped out at Massive Dynamic, typing all the information they had on the Alex Jefferies case into William Bell's typewriter, trying to gather further evidence on the case, and trying to figure out how to reopen the bridge to the Other Side.

"Agent Dunham, can I talk to you for a moment," Brandon quietly prompted Olivia as she poured over evidence from a recent case.

"Sure, Brandon," she offered him a polite smile. "Your office?" He nodded and Olivia followed him through the shining white corridor and into his office as he closed the door.

"I have an idea of something that could help with the bridge," he said tentatively. "It's something we've discussed recently, actually."

"Something we've discussed recently?" Olivia asked, clearly lost. "Oh… you mean cortexiphan?" her eyes widened with understanding as Brandon nodded. "You think that would help?"

"We do have knowledge that you are somehow linked to the machine," he explained. "The repairs on it are nearly complete, but we have no way of knowing whether or not we'll be able to reactivate it. That's where you come in."

"I'd be used to help power up the machine? But isn't Peter the power source?"

"Ideally, we'd like to prevent Peter from entering the machine again," Brandon said, "seeing as how last time he entered it, the timeline was completely rewritten."

Olivia's mind instantly thought of Henry, the son Peter hadn't known about until he no longer existed, and pictured her daughter being wiped from existence in much the same way. "No," she shivered, "I definitely do not think it's a good idea to put Peter back in the machine. But I'm just supposed to be able to circumvent the force field the machine produces. Not turn it on."

"We believe, that since the machine has already been turned on in the past, we may be able to activate it simply by flipping the switch," Brandon said evenly. "It may be that assembling the repaired pieces of the device triggers the force field, disallowing any physical contact with the machine. That's where you come in."

Olivia swallowed and nodded, "Alright. So when do we begin treatments?"

Brandon looked quizzically at her, "You're in? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Olivia confirmed. "I need to do what I can to help with these investigations. And, in the meantime, the cortexiphan may trigger more of those dreams."

Brandon smirked, "Well, in that case, we can start as soon as you'd like. We have a reserve of cortexiphan stored on this floor, actually. I'll need to formally request Ms. Sharp's approval, but that should only take a couple of days until it's approved. What do you say… this Thursday, just to be safe? The 21st work for you?"

Dreading explaining what was to come to Peter, Olivia nodded solemnly. "I can do that."

"Excellent," Brandon smiled, turning to his computer to get started on the paperwork needed to release quantities of controlled substances. "I'll get right on the request for access to cortexiphan, and I'll see you this Thursday, Agent Dunham. Unless, of course, there's any issues. I'll call you in any such case."

"Thank you, Brandon," Olivia offered a small smile, pushing in her chair and turning towards the hallway. Exiting Brandon's office, Olivia turned right and ran directly into Peter, who caught her shoulders to balance them.

"Well hi to you too, Liv," he crooned. "I know it's hard to keep your hands off me, but we probably should try not to be all over each other at work. Since Nina's my boss, I hardly think _I'd_ get in trouble. But your FBI professionalism may come into question if they see you with your body pressed against mine on the job," Peter whispered with a devilish grin.

Olivia tried to adopt his light demeanor and flashed him a pointed look. "Sorry I bumped into you."

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, stepping back and looking into her eyes.

Olivia sighed. No matter how hard she tried to contain her emotions, Peter could always read her in ways no one else could. He saw right through every stern glance and carefully professional stance she'd perfected over the course of her career and knew exactly when she was scared, stressed, worried, or all of the above. "It's a long story, and I don't want to get into it here. Can we talk on the way home?" she asked, offering him a sad smile.

Peter's eyebrows knit together, deepening the nearly permanent crease between them, as he studied his wife. "Alright," he said hesitantly, sighing and giving Olivia's shoulder a quick squeeze before dropping his hand. "I'm gonna go finish working up the repairs on the machine part I'm working on, and then I'll be done for the day. It's nearly five already. How much more work do you have to do?"

"Before we go home? Technically none. But I have plenty of stuff I _can_ do," she answered with a smirk.

"Yes I know you do, Miss Workaholic," Peter raised an eyebrow at her, "if it weren't for me and Etta, I'm not entirely convinced you'd _ever_ stop working through your cases."

Olivia scoffed and kissed him swiftly on the cheek, seeing as they were still alone in the hallway. "I'll be in the conference room working. Come get me when you're done?"

"Will do," Peter smiled, as Olivia rounded the corner and sat down at her makeshift desk.

About thirty minutes later, Olivia jumped at the sound of Peter knocking on the doorframe.

"Ready to go?" he asked. "We need to pick up Etta before six or we'll get charged for being late… again."

"Peter, we've only been late one time. It's not like it's a habit," Olivia snapped at him. "And I was only four minutes late. It wasn't my fault the traffic back from Providence was so slow. I didn't cause the accident on the freeway," she explained as she packed up her files.

"I know, I'm just teasing you, Liv," he replied cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she sighed. "Let's go get our girl."

* * *

After picking up Etta, coming home, and eating dinner, Peter sat on the couch in the living room with his arm around Olivia. As she watched the news, he absentmindedly traced circles on her arm and watched Etta build an intricate castle of Legos. The way Etta's eyebrows knit together in concentration as she constructed her castle was almost comical; she perfectly resembled Peter's facial expression any time he was concentrating on a task. Smiling reverently at his daughter, he murmured in Olivia's ear, "I think I should probably start her a B-A-T-H."

Somehow hearing him, Etta's head snapped up and she gave her father an accusatory look. "I know how to spell bath, Daddy. And for your information, I had one last night. And I still feel clean so I don't think I need another one."

"Well, Kiddo, the thing is, if we don't wash your hair tonight, it will look as tangled as the Christmas lights did when we got them out of the basement last month," Peter replied, ruffling her hair. "If you take a good bath for me, maybe we can read two stories before you go to sleep.

Etta tilted her head, considering this. "Alright," she sighed, defeated.

Olivia smiled at the exchange. Etta bargaining with Peter over her bath was becoming a regular thing. She had a feeling her three-year-old was developing her father's knack for conning people. Olivia could see Etta had realized just how tightly she had her father wrapped around her finger some time ago, and was now testing the waters to see how exactly that could benefit her. Considering her talent for manipulation at such a young age, Olivia didn't disagree with Peter that their daughter had inherited the "Bishop Genius Brain".

When the news program she was watching finished, Olivia killed some time while Peter was putting Etta to sleep by doing laundry and picking up the living room. Before she and Peter had moved in together, Olivia's apartment had been immaculate. She'd been like that her whole life; when she was a military brat, moving from one military base to another, she was either living out of boxes, or in a room so neat it looked like a hotel. So when Peter, whose go-with-the-flow attitude translated into a very messy living area, and her first bought their house Quincy Street, they fought constantly. However, when Etta was born and their lives got even more hectic, Olivia learned that sometimes things are messy, and that she would just have to learn to live with it.

But that's not to say she didn't clean up after Etta and Peter whenever they left a mess.

"Hey, Babe," Peter greeted Olivia with a smile, leaning over to kiss her. "The kid went right to sleep. Easiest bed time ever. Now do you wanna talk about what was bothering you earlier?"

Olivia nodded, taking a deep breath and finishing her glass of iced tea. "Brandon had a proposition for me earlier today. It's something that may help with reopening the bridge, and maybe even help us explain those dreams I've been having."

Peter nodded cautiously. "What exactly does this proposition entail?"

"They want to treat me with cortexiphan."

"Olivia, absolutely not," Peter said incredulously. "It's too dangerous."

"Peter, I've been treated multiple times before. What makes this different than before?"

"Well, first of all, it's not just us anymore; we have Etta to think about. Walter's not here to help monitor your treatment. Astrid and I are the only ones left who've ever even been around when you've taken cortexiphan, and neither of us knows how to administer the treatment. And I'm not sure that it would be wise to take it while you're trying to get pregnant."

"Peter," she pleaded softly, "I know you're scared. I am, too. But Massive Dynamic has all of William Bell's and Walter's procedural notes and videos. They know what they're doing. And unless you don't remember the whole me dying and coming back to life quickly thing that happened while I was pregnant with Etta, I'm fairly certain it wouldn't hurt anything even if I were pregnant." Olivia folded her hand into his and looked up at him from under her eyelashes, knowing that always made him soften towards her. "It could help us open up the bridge. And doing that would allow us to continue healing their world. It could also help us find some answers about Walter. Having Walternate assist us couldn't hurt things for sure."

"Liv, I'm still not convinced it's entirely necessary. I don't want you getting hurt," he said, his eyes swimming with concern. "Can't we just see if they even need you to be treated before you go ahead with it?"

"Brandon wanted me to start on Thursday. But I suppose we can postpone."

"Indefinitely?" Peter asked, bringing his arms around Olivia and pulling her closer, until her head was nestled into his neck.

"I suppose so," she murmured, defeated.

Peter inhaled her scent and pressed a kiss into the top of her head. "Thank you, Livia."

"For what?" she asked, puzzled.

"For telling me about the whole cortexiphan thing. I appreciate you letting me in on the decision before it's already made."

She turned her head to face him. "No problem," she smiled, kissing him slowly.

Peter groaned when she stopped. "You know, you can't start kissing me like that if you're just gonna stop."

"Oh, I can't?" Olivia said innocently.

"No," he replied in a low voice, "not unless you're ready for bed already."

"Well maybe I am," she flirted back.

Peter smirked knowingly, kissing his wife once more before pulling her up from the couch. "And what exactly are you gonna do about that?"

"Well, we could go work on that thing we've been working on."

"Are you talking about a baby?" Peter asked with an amused look on his face. "Really? 'That thing?'"

Olivia shrugged and tugged on his hand as she made her way up the stairs.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Semi-fluffy chapter ahead :)**

* * *

Breathless in the humid air surrounding their bodies, Olivia sighed contentedly into Peter's shoulder. "We're pretty good together, aren't we?" she remarked, analyzing their entwined legs.

"I'd say so," Peter replied with a cocky smirk on his face. "Especially when you consider the whole 'fate of the universe hinging on our being together' thing that happened a few years ago."

Olivia groaned, "I swear sometimes our life doesn't even seem real."

"Sometimes? I think that may be an underestimate. The majority of the time our life seems somewhat fictional," Peter joked, playing with the pieces of Olivia's hair that were strewn across his chest. "Alternate universes, alternate timelines, everything about the observers, you dying briefly, not to mention all the cases we work on a daily basis basically add up to exactly the opposite of what I pictured my future would be like. Or rather, the opposite of what I pictured _any_ future to be like."

"Mm hmm," Olivia hummed in agreement, "it's almost like we're on Star Trek or something."

At that moment, their door creaked open slowly.

"Mama? Daddy?" Etta quietly called into the room. "Can I come sleep with you guys?"

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" Peter asked, quickly slipping into his pajama pants and walking over to kneel next to his daughter at the doorway.

"I had a bad dream," she sniffled in response, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "There were bad guys who were dressed like business men with weird hats. And they came and got me and I couldn't see you anymore. And they didn't have any hair at all."

Olivia's blood ran cold as she pictured what Etta described. Her and Peter were very careful to keep any kind of photo evidence from work away from their home so Etta wouldn't stumble across something upsetting. To her knowledge, Olivia's daughter had never seen an observer. But here she was, dreaming of them.

Concealed by the darkness of the night, Olivia pulled her nightgown on quickly and met her daughter at the door, heart aching. Olivia clutched Etta tightly and whispered quietly into her hair, "It's okay, Sweetie. No one's taking you. Mommy and Daddy are never going to let anything hurt you."

"You can sleep in our bed tonight, Henrietta," Peter said soothingly, squeezing Olivia's shoulder. "But we should probably go to bed now, because I don't want you to be tired for school tomorrow."

"Okay," Etta yawned, the fear in her voice easing quickly at her parents' soothing presence.

After they climbed into bed, Etta situated herself on top of Peter with one of her tiny hands playing with Olivia's hair, like she did when Olivia had breastfed her. Peter whispered, "You know, when I was a little boy, I used to have bad dreams too. And I learned how to make them go away."

"How did you do that?" Etta replied curiously.

"Before I'd go to bed at night, I would say to myself, 'please don't dream tonight,' and I'd repeat that over and over. Would you like to try it?"

Etta nodded against his chest as she begun to say the mantra along with him for a few minutes before drifting off.

_Olivia looked around her, taking in the office space. She picked up a picture frame from the desk in front of her and saw her own—or rather, her alternate's—face smiling back at her, along with Lincoln and a boy who looked about twelve. Both the other Olivia and Lincoln appeared to be years older than they'd been when she'd seen them last at the closing of the bridge._

_ "Olivia?" her alternate interrupted her staring at the picture. Olivia saw the look of pleasant surprise mixed with confusion on her face._

_ "It's me," she confirmed, "I was in amber for—for twenty-one years," she explained the obvious lack of aging._

_ "What are you doing here?" Lincoln asked her._

_ "I need your help," she explained, apologizing with her eyes for intruding on their lives after radio silence from her universe for the better part of the last quarter century._

_ Lincoln and BOlivia nodded in unison and took a seat in front of her, as Olivia explained to them how they'd lost Etta in the park during the invasion. She recounted the painful memories of searching all of Boston with Peter for their toddler with no luck, and how she'd been frozen in amber in the pursuit of stopping the observers. Skipping over all the parts before Etta died, she explained to them that to defeat the observers, they needed Michael, who happened to be on Liberty Island behind impenetrable security. Olivia told them how she needed their help getting to Liberty Island in order to cross back over, get the boy, and bring him back with her._

_ "So, once you were ambered, how did you get out?" her alternate asked her. _

_ "Our daughter freed us."_

_ "So you found her?" BOlivia replied in disbelief. "I can't imagine what you went through." Her words made the ever-present dull pain of loss deep in her chest throb as Olivia thought of her daughter. _

_ Registering the pain in her eyes, Lincoln looked at her with concern, "Liv?"_

_ Olivia tried to snap out of her reverie as her hold on the alternate universe slipped slightly, making her dizzy. "I'm sorry. What was I saying?" she winced. _

_ "That you were hoping you were going to see Etta again," her alternate replied gently._

_ "If the plan is successful," Lincoln finished for his wife. "Are you okay?" _

_ Olivia swallowed and tried to focus. "Yeah, I don't have much time," she explained._

_ "So they boy is being held at a detention camp on Liberty Island?" the other Olivia said, focusing on the task at hand in an identical manner to her alternate._

_ "On our side, yes. So my goal is to cross over, grab him, and then bring him back over here," Olivia explained. "Then we'll cross back home through Battery Park."_

Olivia abruptly awoke to her hair being pulled. She looked over, confused, and saw Etta on top of Peter, both of whom were fast asleep. Etta had moved her arms, unconsciously pulling her closer to them. Rubbing her scalp, Olivia checked the time and saw that it was nearly 3:00 am. Moving tenderly so as not to wake her family, Olivia slowly removed her hair from Etta's clutches and climbed out of bed.

Knowing that remembering the details of her dream was important, she went down the stairs and sat at the kitchen table in front of her glowing MacBook. She carefully typed out all the details of her dream, including the conversation, location and apparent time period of the events into an email to Brandon, so he would see it in the morning. Resolving to tell Peter about it after they'd dropped Etta off at preschool, Olivia sent the email and closed her computer.

Twenty minutes later, Olivia carefully climbed back up the stairs and slipped between the cool, silky sheets, thinking it was unlikely that she would fall back asleep that night. As a cloud moved so it was no longer covering the moon, her bedroom became dimly lit with pale moonlight, just enough so that she could see the details of Peter's and Etta's faces. Olivia smiled at the familiar way her daughter's lips puckered as her cheek was pressed into Peter's chest. Peter's heavy breath coupled with the soft sound of Etta sucking on her blanket formed the perfect lullaby. Olivia snuggled in closer to Peter's side and gingerly placed a hand on Etta's back, feeling the quick rise and fall of her breath. Few things could calm her down like her peacefully sleeping daughter. She closed her eyes and smiled serenely as she drifted off to sleep.

"Mommy, time to wake up," Etta crooned with her cold nose pressed against Olivia's cheek. "It's morning!"

Without opening her eyes, Olivia smiled. "You know, I could get used to waking up like this every day. You're much more pleasant than my alarm clock." Olivia pulled Etta into a tight embrace, causing the three-year-old to giggle. Opening her eyes, Olivia saw Peter leaning against the door frame smiling fondly at them. "Why are you up early?" she asked him.

"A certain daughter of ours decided she wanted blueberry pancakes for breakfast and convinced me to get up early so I could make them," he explained, resulting in a triumphant smile from Etta. "I was just about to head downstairs to start them. Do you want anything?"

"I'll just have toast and coffee, please. Thanks, Peter."

"Mommy," Etta said, calling Olivia's attention back to her as she plopped down next to her mother, full of energy. "Guess what! Daddy's saying worked. I didn't have any more bad dreams."

"I'm glad, Honey," Olivia smiled, kissing her daughter on the cheek. "I'm gonna get in the shower now. Do you wanna go pick out something to wear today?"

Etta's eyes lit up. "All by myself?"

Olivia nodded in response. "Remember, it's still cold outside. So you need long sleeves and pants or leggings. Okay?"

Etta nodded as she hopped off the bed and scampered towards her room.

Olivia's shower was scorching as she tried to melt the tension out of her muscles. She was worried enough as it was about her own dreams. But the fact that her baby girl was now dreaming that observers were after her was completely unacceptable. Olivia's heart ached thinking about how terrified Etta had seemed when she had clutched to her and Peter the night before.

As soon as Olivia toweled off and opened the door from the bathroom to the master bedroom, her phone began to ring. Unsurprisingly, the name Philip Broyles lit up on the screen. "Dunham," she answered curtly, immediately switching from worried mother to professional agent mode.

"Instead of reporting to the federal building, I would like you and Mr. Bishop to report to Logan Airport," he quickly ordered. "There's been another crossing over."

"Another kid? Are they alive?" Olivia asked.

"Fortunately, yes," Broyles reassured her. "This one's a nine year old girl by the name of Amelia Ying. She crossed over into Times Square. Says she got lost from her mom and got scared."

Olivia sighed. "We'll be there soon as we can," she replied before Broyles hung up the phone.

"Peter?" she called down the stairs. "We're needed in New York."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to those of you who are still reading! I would LOVE some reviews if you're liking the story (not to mention they help me write faster!)**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hi guys! SO sorry it's been over three weeks since my last chapter. Midterms were awful, and I've been crazy busy with real life (which is super annoying). This chapter is a little short, but hopefully I will have another one up really soon (maybe later this week?) **

**Once again, I own nothing (sadly), and this is unbetaed. This chapter, like the others, was just very quickly checked over for mistakes by myself after I wrote it. So I apologize for any mistakes.**

* * *

The ride to Etta's daycare would have been silent if Etta had not been quietly humming "Let It Go" in the backseat. Olivia sat stiffly in the driver's seat, her back and neck refusing to relax from their tensed positions. Peter was slouched in the seat next to her, arms crossed across his chest. His brows were furrowed over his stormy eyes which matched the grey clouds in the sky.

When they arrived at Massive Dynamic Childcare, Peter scooped up Etta and quickly took her inside while Olivia waited in the car, scanning over the case files Broyles had faxed to her home office.

When Peter climbed back into the car, immediately he turned to look at Olivia. "Are we gonna talk about it?" he asked.

"Talk about what?" Olivia said while turning onto the main street headed towards Massive Dynamic's Boston Headquarters, though she already knew precisely what Peter was referring to.

Peter sighed in resignation. "Our three year old dreaming about observers taking her. When she has never seen them before."

Olivia's forehead creased with worry. "I don't know what to say, Peter. I'm as perplexed as you are. I have no what's causing Etta to have dreams about the invasion—"

"Wait," Peter interrupted, "the invasion? What are you talking about, Liv?"

"I—" Olivia's voice caught in her throat. "I don't know. I have no idea why I just said that. All I know is that I could barely sleep last night because I was so worried about what might be happening to Etta. And when I did finally fall asleep, I had one of _my_ dreams," As she parked, Olivia turned in her seat to make eye contact with Peter." I don't know what's happening at all," she said miserably.

"Hey," Peter said softly, putting his hand in her hair to pull her into his chest. "It's okay. You're gonna be fine."

"It's not me I'm worried about," she replied, giving him a small, sad smile.

Peter pulled away from Olivia just enough to make eye contact with her, his hand cupping her cheek. "Our girl's gonna be alright, Livia. Okay? We are probably the best-equipped parents in the world to keep her safe from anything that's out there. And you know as well as I do that things aren't always what they seem. I don't know why Etta is having dreams about the observers, but we will try and figure it out."

Olivia leaned her face into his palm, breathing deeply and closing her eyes for a moment. "I love you," she said simply.

"Love you too, Sweetheart," Peter replied with a half-smile. "Now, should we head on up?" he asked. They were riding to the crime scene with Astrid and Brandon Fayette in one of Massive Dynamic's commercial helicopters.

"Probably," she replied, swiftly kissing him before unbuckling. "Thanks, Peter."

When they got to the roof of Massive Dynamic, Astrid rushed over to greet them, quickly briefing them on what had happened with the case since Broyles had called them. Since Astrid had been named a full Special Agent the previous spring, she had been determined to prove herself in the field. Four years of being a junior agent had consisted of more or less acting as an assistant for Walter, so she was grateful and excited about the field work she now got to do.

When Peter, Olivia, Brandon, and Astrid boarded the rather large commercial helicopter to fly to New York, the roar of the wings and engine proved much too loud to try and talk on the short flight. Olivia took the duration of the flight to yet again review the preliminary case files. Her eidetic memory had virtually the entire document stored in her head already, so Olivia's reviewing of the files mostly consisted of her staring at them while worrying about her daughter.

Upon arriving at the scene, Olivia scrutinized her surroundings. The intersection where Amelia Ying had crossed over had been completely blocked off, causing traffic jams on the surrounding streets. After talking to the initial respondents, Olivia learned that the young girl had crossed over on the cross walk, right in front of and elderly couple who was crossing the street. As the little girl had looked around and found that her family was nowhere to be seen, she began to cry. The couple behind her helped her to a nearby police station to help her find her parents. The report raised some red flags in Fringe Division's servers, causing them to respond to the scene.

While the others did their best to take inventory of the area and gather any evidence they may find, Olivia went into the court house to question Amelia Ying and gather any information she possibly could about who was treating kids with cortexiphan Over There.

Olivia crouched down in front of Amelia and smiled at the little girl. "Hi, Amelia. My name's Olivia. Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions? We just want to figure out what happened so we can get you back home to your mom and dad."

Amelia looked up at Olivia with sad eyes and nodded, causing Olivia's heart to drop at her expression. On Amelia's face shone a mixture of fear, sadness, and pain Olivia recognized from her own face. It was obvious to Olivia that treating children with cortexiphan caused them to grow up too fast mentally in order to deal with the reality of alternate universes, telekinetic, and pyrokinetic powers. For the duration of questioning Amelia, Olivia couldn't help but ache for her daughter's presence. There was something deeply upsetting about a lost, hurt child that got to Olivia even more now that she was a mother.

Massive Dynamic's science team found no sign of any type of residual atmospheric disturbance in its assessment of the scene, which was not surprising, as that seemed to be the case when anyone treated with cortexiphan crossed over.

"Agent Dunham," Astrid called to Olivia. "I just got done checking records, and it appears that on this side, Amelia Ying's parents live at the same address as the one you provided. Every other detail checks out as well, except on this side, her younger sister is named Grace, not Emily."

"Thanks for checking up on that, Astrid," Olivia said offering her a smile. "Do you have any idea where the bureau is planning on having her stay, since we can't exactly just cross her back over?"

"Sadly, no. Her mom works in marketing and her dad is a chemistry professor at NYU, so they don't have knowledge of the alternate universe. Agent Weissman suggested we simply inform them about its existence and see if they'd be willing to act as a foster family until we're able to cross her back over, but obviously Broyles shut that idea down in about half a second," she said with a smile. "I think they're setting her up with a foster family with ties to the FBI so we can keep tabs on her."

Olivia sighed. "It just breaks my heart that poor girl isn't _lost_, per se, but can't get to her family, because they don't exactly know she exists."

Peter walked up behind Olivia placing a quick kiss on her cheek. "We got a statement over to the Other Side's Fringe Division. They're going to question the girl's family and try to determine who was treating her with cortexiphan and why. In the meantime, they want us at Liberty Island. They're going to try to turn on the machine today."

Astrid and Olivia both turned to look at Peter in surprise. "They are?" Astrid spoke up. "How?"

"They've got all the parts repaired, but the machine is still dormant. In order to try and activate it, they're going to take a small blood sample from me and place it in the power source, which will hopefully cause the bridge to begin running again."

"Peter, I don't like this," Olivia said gravely. "The idea of any piece of you physically being incorporated into the machine seems too dangerous."

"Livia," he answered in a soothing, reassuring voice as he clasped her hands in his. "I'm already tied to the machine. And this is the best option we've got."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this installment! ****Also thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter. You guys made my day/week/month. So glad you are liking the story. Please subscribe if you wanna keep up with it, I'm not abandoning it, I promise :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Surprise! After long breaks between chapters, I thought I'd get this out to you soon. I hope you guys like this chapter!**

* * *

"Mr. Bishop," one of the Massive Dynamic scientists greeted Peter as him, Olivia, Astrid, and Brandon reached Liberty Island, "as of earlier this morning, we've put the finishing touches on the biomechanical interface you and Dr. Bishop started drafting in 2011. Of course, we've tweaked the original design in order for a blood sample to sufficiently activate the machine and act as a power source. Theoretically speaking, everything seems to be in order for activation. But we won't know for sure until we try."

Peter nodded curtly. "Thanks, Dr. Wyatt. Have Agent Broyles and Ms. Sharp arrived yet?"

"We've just heard from security that they are landing as we speak, sir," called one of the many FBI agents stationed at computers opposite the machine.

Peter turned to look at Olivia and saw that she was staring intensely at him, looking like she might be sick at any moment. He took in Olivia's expression, confused. "Am I glimmering?"

Olivia's face softened a bit as she shook her head. "Not since before I was shot in the head. I think that since all of the residual cortexiphan left my system, I can't see the glimmer anymore."

"Hey," Peter murmured to her in a low, soothing tone. He brought a hand up to her face, knowing that was always seemed to calm her and center her. "There's nothing for you to worry about. This probably won't work anyway. I'm just gonna get some blood taken, as well as my heart rate and blood pressure. Nothing they didn't do at my physical last fall."

Olivia frowned at him in response. "Peter, I think we both know interacting with the machine is to be taken a little more seriously than that." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "What if you _do_ disappear again? I can't lose you again. And I definitely can't lose Etta."

The memory of his son, erased from the universe before Peter even knew of his existence, caused his chest to ache with a familiar, hollow feeling. The guilt and pain he felt for the baby boy he never knew was hard enough as it was. Peter could not imagine if his perfect, brilliant, adorable, funny, smart, compassionate daughter, who he fiercely loved from the moment Olivia had told him she was pregnant, was erased like Henry. "Olivia, I know you're scared," he said, twining his fingers between hers, "I am, too. But if I'm not even touching the machine, I don't see how it's possible for me to be erased from existence. Even if it were, I don't think it would just _happen_ spontaneously. In the past, I had some degree of control over the machine. What did Sam Weiss say about it all those years ago?" he prompted her, trying to calm his wife down.

"He said the machine was attuned to you; that it would save whichever universe you were tied to most," Olivia recited. "But that was years ago, in a different timeline when we thought the machine would act as a destroyer of universes. I have no idea what Sam would say now."

"But if the machine was so attuned to me, it should continue to behave in that manner now, with the new interface. And if it does react to my brain waves, there's no way it would erase me this time around, when I am so clearly screaming inside _not_ to be erased from time," Peter informed her with a half-smile. Pulling her into his arms, Peter rested his forehead on Olivia's and took a deep breath, inhaling her familiar scent that smelled of home.

"Peter, Olivia," Nina Sharp greeted them warmly as she walked towards them. "How are you doing today?"

Olivia pulled away from Peter to hug Nina in greeting, but kept one hand tightly grasped in Peter's hand. "Pretty worried. Things didn't quite go so well the last time."

Nina rubbed Olivia's shoulder consolingly. "I don't think you have anything to worry about this time. Sam seems to think the reactivation process will be much less dramatic than the initial activation."

Olivia froze. "Sam Weiss? You've talked to him? I've been trying to get in contact with him for the better part of the past year," Olivia demanded. "When did you speak to him?"

Nina nodded, "He called me yesterday. Like you, I had been trying to get in touch with him since we closed the bridge originally in 2012. He advised our team a year or so after that on about the possibility of reopening the bridge. Mostly, he hypothesized how we should go about reinstating it, if necessary, and what the possible problems might be. He said it was highly unlikely any damage to the universe should occur since its function was determined as a bridge to the other side and not a doomsday device at its original activation. Most likely, events will play out without too much excitement. Last night, Sam talked to the lead scientists working on the bridge about the bio-interface they finished and said the design is exactly what it should be."

Peter watched Olivia carefully as Nina spoke, gauging her reaction. She had become increasingly agitated as they had left the scene where Amelia Ying had crossed over this morning, and upon arriving to Liberty Island, she'd acquired an almost sickly pallor. However, as Nina spoke, it seemed a bit of the color returned to Olivia's face and the creases between her eyebrows softened a bit. Although Olivia's memories of this timeline were fuzzy, somewhere inside her, she still recognized Nina as the closest thing she had to a mother. In the time since Olivia had gotten her old memories back, Nina had kept her promise to build something with her yet again, and had become an important member of Olivia's and Peter's family. Due to this closeness (and despite the fact that Peter had been trying to reassure Olivia of the safety of reopening the bridge for weeks now), Olivia seemed to calm from her apprehensive state slightly.

"Mr. Bishop? We're ready for you," a nurse called from the entrance of the hall containing a few exam rooms. "Agent Dunham is welcome to join you if you would like," she added, smiling warmly.

Peter winced as Olivia tightened her hold on his hand. "I assume there's no way you're _not_ coming with me?" he asked with a chuckle.

Olivia offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes in response. "Obviously," she answered as they walked over to join the nurse.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I know it's not a super exciting ending, but I decided to stop here for now so you guys could have an update sooner. I am hoping to get the next chapter written and published before the end of the weekend, though! Let me know if you enjoyed this! Reviews make me happy :)**


End file.
